(and we burned, like icarus)
by evanescentdawn
Summary: the world slowed in its axis – there was no moving forward. only an end. (or: perhaps not.) (perhaps: a beginning-)


perhaps, he knew— the exact moment everything was going to fall. perhaps, he knew the moment hazel eyes burned into his. he was captured in the blaze, the way it made him alive. though, maybe if only he focused on the cold edge of the fire, the ashes of moonlight left behind — he would see that they were going to fall so utterly hard. perhaps, he did see and only chose to close his eyes and focus on the feeling that inflated him; Gellert's lips slanted against him felt, the elated feeling of drowning and flying.

because once, there was a boy who thought he was ashes of a phoenix. he was bright, clever but constricted by his family. he did love them, truly did but often as he looked forward and outside from his window, saw the bright blue sky he ached for more and thought why me, why me like his fast beating and aching heart. he wanted to escape, to shine. he wanted glory but was trapped.

he thought he was ashes of a phoenix waiting for the fire to relight his world and he would be reborn, rise as a powerful, majestic wizard.

and his fire did appear in the form of blond hair and soft, hard hazel eyes. Gellert was fire; a burning, hot blue inferno, a single spark that leapt into his dark world and alighted everything — a tower of blue that flooded and captured everything in an ethereal, beautiful light. and like everything he was caught in the light but unlike everyone who fell under the sheer of it, it gave him power and made his heart drum - drowning everything until all he could see was, _him him him._

he was entranced, captured in the blaze and—

he found he wanted to burn. utterly and completely blaze in Gellert's awake.

because _god_ —he never felt this alive. he was amazed, was breathless, shaken, trembling at the ideas, the adventures, the escape– _by Gellert_. by the thrill, by the possibilities, by the dreams.

so he reached deeper into the pit, into Gellert – and_ clung on._

_(—ignoring how colder the flame was as he reached further)_

his entire world vanished, burned in ashes till only hazel and fair blond hair remained. Gellert's smile, Gellert's warmth, Gellert's words

_him, him, him_

come with me, Gellert said. I need you and— he never wanted something so much. because next to Gellert, he was a phoenix, shining brightest. because he loved the way, Gellert's hands fitted seamlessly in his.

with Gellert, it was like flying without constrictions. he was free,

flying with his wings made of dreams —

_fire-red, large, covering the sky with embers._

he felt weightless, powerful as he was rising with Gellert

_higher_

.

and then— he was falling.

_he was drowning in blackness, in a cold dark grey mass. he was falling, sinking, sinking; bruised and agonisingly being pulled apart. coldness. aching pain. ash-white hands were pushing him down he couldn't think - couldn't breathe. the air was tight. he was suffocating; torn, tearing_

_thoughts fracturing, splitting like thin glass shards falling like dust too many pieces he couldn't pick up them, they pierced him as he reached for his memories, his thoughts and it was pain sharp-stinging pain and blood, spilling black and blue colours drained and faded there's only darkness sweeping in_

_like cold, harsh waves_

_crushing him without mercy._

.

perhaps, he knew— the exact moment everything was going to fall. perhaps, he knew the moment hazel eyes burned into his.

but Gellert was too hard to resist. he was everything Albus needed.

( though, if Albus thought now - maybe it was, everything he _wanted_ )

.

they were two boys, clever and arrogant with a shared obsession. who like Icarus, flew up to close to the sun, burned fell and drowned. expect, they didn't fly toward the sun - they were the suns and they fell. fell in love with each other, except it wasn't like falling _in_ love but _up_ because together, they shone the brightest. expect, it was falling _in_ love because they were two suns, who together, was a wrenching mess of fire that collided in a staggering force of a supernova that left a black hole. and they, the whole world was left to be swallowed in the abyss.

a three-way duel that ended in one death.

Albus had opened his eyes and finally saw the truth he tried to cover from. he saw Gellert. he saw himself. and what he saw wasn't ashes of a phoenix falling in the fire, being reborn, rising more sturdy, more powerful; it wasn't the fire encasing the phoenix in warmth and spreading higher and further as the wings of the phoenix flapped. he saw two boys, too clever and arrogant, _obsessed_. he saw the aftermath of what could happen. he saw the mad, uncontrollable edge in Gellert, the way Gellert threw the unforgivable curse at his brother. Albus felt how much Gellert's fire had ingrained in him, the way he held the wand at his family and lost control.

he saw the horror, plain truth of what Gellert's ideas were, what it entailed - and he let go.

and Gellert had fled.

and Albus drowned in the darkness that swept in like cold, harsh waves crushing him without mercy.

.

_perhaps, if Gellert stayed; perhaps, if Gellert didn't close his eyes further and saw; perhaps, if Albus didn't let go for that moment and held on tighter; perhaps, if Albus hadn't closed his eyes at first - maybe, Albus and Gellert could have find something in the mess of their collision. perhaps, they could have found a way they could have burned together without leaving the world and themselves in a wreck._

_but they didn't and that last battle fated._

.

in the years that lead to the battle, Albus was in pieces. here and there. he had to gather up the pieces of him in the painful darkness. it was a slow process, but Albus pulled himself together. eventually, he pushed himself from the cold, mess darkness and went to face Gellert. except he didn't put himself together because once something is broken, you can't fix – _only, tape the pieces together and hope for the best._

and when Albus entered the battle, he wasn't expected to win - to live - just hoped - for _something_. he couldn't escape Gellert anymore because people were dying, because this was more than them - there was a world beyond them.

.

Albus had tried to delay the meeting. he was scared of facing the truth now that he saw it. he gripped on the what-ifs, drowned in possibilities, in dreams - paradise stinging hot-sharp on his tongue slipping away and

fading to ashes.

(he had hoped someone else could stop him - but )

it was war, people were dying, and Gellert seemed unstoppable.

it had got to the time it was too shameful, he had to face Gellert or - Albus could never forgive himself.

.

nevertheless, Albus never forgives himself.

_(for what exactly- he might never know)_

_(but he does)_

_(and that's the tragedy of Albus Dumbledore.)_

.

Albus and Gellert had collided again, in streams of spells that broke, shattered the world around them. it was a dance: calculated steps with a cold steel force behind each movement. it was a dance:_ uncontrollable, instinctual, wild._

they were equals; Albus, perhaps, a bit more skilful but Gellert held the elder wand in his hand and so, he was winning.

Albus had expected this outcome, had faced the possibility in his head a thousand times but –

surrounded by a blazing purple-inferno, Albus and Gellert separated from the world -

Gellert's eyes burning into his, Gellert's wand pressed along the pulse of his neck, the words escaped his lips.

"are you going to kill me, _Grindelwald_?" he had said, his voice cold and distant despite the tornado of emotions thrashing beneath the words. despite, the answer knew he was going to get. despite the fact, _it wasn't what he wanted to ask._

Gellert didn't answer but looked at him with a deeper intensity, and he was suddenly, more conscious of how his world had narrowed - _again_ \- to Gellert, to only him.

(as it always since ever that day)

Albus's heart drummed in a clash of beats, and it was: _him, him, him._

and for a second, Albus had hoped for something he shouldn't, could not have– when Gellert had slanted his lips to his; pressing words into his lips and amid confusion, wanting, _hating_ and Albus kissing back - Gellert had let go. there was something like _gentle_, and a flicker of something deeper, Albus couldn't understand in Gellert's eyes as he just like that - surrendered and Albus won.

expect Albus never won. he could not. that was the one truth he never did hide, the only truth buried in the lies and excuse he told the world that -

**Albus could never move against Gellert Grindelwald.**

.

_there was something that Albus never understood - or misunderstood - will eventually understand - is that it wasn't only him -_

**_Gellert could never move against Albus Dumbledore._**

_the truth Gellert had hidden tried to run away from- and in the end, couldn't and it became his destruction - their destruction._

_(love)_

.

"are you going to kill me, _Grindelwald_?" Albus had said, his voice cold and distant despite the tornado of emotions thrashing beneath the words. despite, the answer knew he was going to get. despite the fact, _it wasn't what he wanted to ask at all._

Albus had thought he would die by Gellert's hands - no - he had _hoped_ he would. because he could never kill Gellert. he had _hoped_ they might die together in the collision but then. Gellert surrendered - snuffed the fire.

and in the death of the flames, only the grey smoke and ashes remained, sweeping into the depths of the lungs draining the air away, until there's only smoke turning the lungs and heart charcoal black, until the last gasp of air

and _death took Albus, cold and hollow._

.

the curtain fell; Albus stood in victory as the world cheered.

.

And in the aftermath of the battle, as Albus walked away, he could taste lingering ashes on his tongue. it tasted hollow, a bit like loneliness, parts grey, burnt, excruciatingly familiar like home and _something deeper he couldn't name -_

(didn't _want_ to-)

\- but most of all, vivid, he could feel the lick of a hot fire remained from Gellert's last words against his lips.

_damn you. damn, damn you, Albus. are you going to abandon the world like this?_

_abandon the world?_ Albus thought as he walked away. _yes I did, didn't I?_

_you were_ my world_,_ _Gellert._

.

a last kiss of ashes.

the world slowed in its axis – there was no moving forward.

only an end.

_(or: perhaps not.) (perhaps: a beginning-)_

.


End file.
